


Newsies Drabbles

by ikeyyy



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Brotherly Love, Drabble Collection, Fluff, How Do I Tag, M/M, Minor Injuries, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24047521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikeyyy/pseuds/ikeyyy
Summary: A collection of little Newsies short stories- I plan on a mix of '92sies and Broadway Newsies. Mostly cute or feel good stories, maybe with light (resolved) drama for fun.1. Albert's off sulking while the Newsies sleep in the lodge one night, and Race goes to check on him.2. Mike and Ike have always been there for each other, and always will.
Relationships: Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	1. Wet Dog

**Author's Note:**

> None of these are beta read! I don't have any writer friends who'd be willing to :P I check all twice for mistakes, but some might slip through.

Thick clouds hovered above the rooftoops of Manhattan that night, and a puff of a stolen cigar rose to join them. The ginger twirled it between his fingers, and swung his feet as they dangled off the edge of the fire escape. He was high up by the roof and had planned to get a good look at the moon, but as it was obscured he just sat in silence. That is, until the clang of leather shoes running up metal rang through his ears, and he chuckled to himself.

"Took ya long enough to realize, Racer." The cigar was quickly snatched out of his hands as the other boy took a smoke of his own.

"Oh, shaddup. I dont even know how you managed to swipe it. I keep 'em on me at all times," he grumbled.

"I don't even know myself, seein' how ya suck on it like a thumb as you sleep," Albert retorted with a sly grin. He felt a quick sting of pain on his arm as Racetrack bent down and hit him teasingly. Race's arms are bare, since he came out in just his undershirt and a pair of pants over them- Albert takes it upon himself to give him a playful slap back as he hoists himself up. His grey-blue eyes are still fixed to the clouds of the same hue as he rises.

"There ain't nothin' up there, pal. Not sure what you're starin' at. Why'd you come up here, anyways? Been cloudy all day, you knew that." Albert pauses before he responds and plucks his cap off his head to muss up his hair.

"I 'unno. Felt like it. Couldn't sleep. The lodge is gettin' cramped with the new newsies. Buncha reasons."

"Makin' room for the kiddies? Never struck me as a _sentar-mentil_ type, Al."

"If Specs heard'cha pronounce it like that, I think he'd soak ya on the spot." Race steps over to lean against the railing next to him, and jokingly checks over his shoulder as if Specs was about to run up and scold him.

"C'mon, bud. You're gonna be exhausted in the morning. Let's go t' bed," he implored, wrapping his arm around Albert's neck and pulling himself close. The other man pulled his head away and smiled, stretching his hands behind his head and sighing.

"Naw, I'm fine, pally. You go." Albert gestured with his hands back down the fire escape, but Race caught his chin and turned him to face him fully. A dark smudge on his cheek was clear even in the faint moonlight.

"Ain't you clean up with us after dinner? You'se got dirt all over you. Hold still," he scolded. Albert tried to pry himself out of Race's grip, whining in pain as his friend tried to wipe it off.

"Hey, quit it! It's a bruise, moron, get offa me."

"How'd you manage that? Real nasty one." Pushing Race's face away, Albert turns away and pouts.

"Scuffle with some kid down near the Bronx. Didn't realize how close I was to their turf." Race shook his head a little and a chuckle escaped from his lips.

"Hey, don't laugh, man! I didn't see there was another guy."

"Sorry, Al, didn't mean it like that. You'se just up here mopin' like a wet dog over one lousy bruise? Come on. Back to bed with you. It'll heal better if you sleeps, I bet." Racetrack slings his arm around his friend's neck again and leads him back down through the window, slapping Albert's hat back onto his head and over his eyes. He slides the window shut behind them quietly as they sneak back into the lodge. On the floor beneath them, Kloppman shakes his head and smiles as he hears two sets of footsteps finally return inside.


	2. Carrying The Banner (and maybe your brother, too)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was kind of beta read! Nobody said there were any mistakes, so it's fine.

**December 23rd, 1893**

Frost laces the window, obscuring mostly everything the little twins can see, but the smell alone draws them close to the pane. The glass is all that separates them from the cafe inside. The holidays bring couples looking for a place to stare lovingly into each other's eyes while eating, and shops like the one before them seemed like a perfect candidate. But as Mike and Ike looked at each other, only mischief reflected between them.

A bell chimed as Mike walked in, his eyes flicking up to the large jar of sweets as he reached up to the counter. The old man behind it leans over a little to get a look at the young kid and smiles.

"Hey, little one. See anything you want?" Ike shuffles in front of the desk, leaning down so he's out of sight, and stops just below where he saw the display of candy.

"Uhm, I don't know... What can I get for- for this much? I don't know how much it is..." Mike pours out a few coins and buttons on the counter, making sure that he throws a few just far enough that they clatter to the floor. Shaking his head a little, the clerk bends down to pick them up. As he's distracted, Mike hurries to lift his brother high enough to reach in the bowl, where Ike digs his hands in and shoves his pockets full. He clambers down from on top of his brother back behind the counter, and Mike is right back to the clerk as he comes back up.  
  
"Not enough for much of anything, sorry."  
  
"That's alright, I'll be back some other time," Mike hurries as he swipes the coins back into his pockets and hops out the door, his brother trailing behind him. Once the two are down the street, they reach in to see what treats they managed to swipe until an older kid bends over and taps them on the shoulders.   
  
"Hey, kiddies. The name's Jack. You two got a real knack for swiping, huh?"

* * *

**April 14th, 1895**

"A bat!"

"What do you mean, a bat?! Are ya stupid, Tommy Boy? It's gotta be, like, some kind of monster." Jojo feels an elbow jab him in the side from next to him, and he snaps Tommy Boy's suspenders back. Tommy whines in response, but is quickly hushed by Mike standing before them.

"Come on, guys! Yer overthinking it, just guess whatever comes to ya first." Ike is perched on his shoulders, face contorted into a ferocious snarl, and hands extended up over his head like large claws.

"Fine, fine... I guess Spot, then," Jojo snickers. "You look just about as irritable as him." With a dramatic sigh, Ike lowers his hands and stabilizes himself on Mike's head.

"We're supposed to be a bear, dum-dums." ('Hey, watch where you're puttin' your hands!' whines his brother.) "Big and tall and scary- didn't my growl give it away?"

"Couldn't be Spot anyways, the twins are double his height like that!"

* * *

**July 20th, 1899**

"Mike? Mikey, you here?" From the corner of his eye, Ike sees a hand raise up from behind a crate, and he rushes over. Mike is laying in a pile of torn papes, his other hand blocking the setting sun from his eyes.

"You scared the hell outta me, man. After I lost sight of you when the bulls came, I thought they got you'se for sure."

"What, didn't think I could fight 'em off?" he chuckles, letting himself be pulled up by his brother. Ike grabs hold of his brother's vest to pull him into a close hug before checking to make sure he wasn't hurt bad. His sigh of relief was cut short as he saw Mike falter- his leg gave out from underneath him for a moment.

"You alright?"

"'Course," he scoffed back. "Ain't I always? But they did catch my leg, a little. I'll walk it off."

"Hah! Walk it off my ass. You've been carrying me all these years, I think it's time fer me to help you up for once." Mike starts to protest, but as soon as he puts any pressure on his left leg, a shooting pain strikes through him.

"I... Maybe. I'll be surprised if you can even manage to pick me up," he teases, "seeing as I'm the taller one."

"Not true! Jack's always said I'm taller, by this much!" Ike debated, gesturing wildly.

"Sure, but I trust Davey more. He's the tallest of us all, he'd know!"

"You're lucky I ain't just leavin' you here."

"If you get us back to the lodge in one piece, I bet you Specs'll measure us."

"I'll carry you all the way to Brooklyn if it means proving I'm the taller one."

...

"Guys, you're the same height."

"BULLSHIT!"


End file.
